The sounds of sunshine
and baseball on the radio
give way to soft winds
luring leaves toward the
ground; forcing trees
to undress too swiftly
as though the largest
longest party had
ended maybe an hour
before, and they just
arrived home, exhausted.
If you stare at a
sunset for too long
you go blind. I think
that is how that
saying goes. Either way
eventually they all
look the same,
the sunsets do, so
what is the point?
Too much of a good thing
makes that thing
not so good anymore.
The colors of leaves
in late October
Never seem boring
even if the colors
are always the same
(even if the timing is not).
Change permeates the air.
It becomes necessary
for everything to
ultimately stay the same.

After the fall,
winter arrives,
followed by all the others.
The days are numbered
One, Two, Three….
followed by all the others.
Sometimes, there
is one extra.
I cannot fathom
where the sun
finds the time.